An Angel To His Aid
by Crazyfangirl23
Summary: The Doctor sees a woman standing in front of him, all from a memory of a kiss. Tribute to Peter Capaldi and 12: thank you for being the Doctor, and thank you for being My Doctor


An Angel Sent To His Aid

The Doctor still couldn't comprehend Bill Potts' paradox. She said she was real; that to him, meant being physically and biologically alive, and because she was human, it meant she had organs and a skeleton frame and all the things that made someone a human. Yet here she was, standing there before him, only a testimony resurrected from the dead and given Bill Pott's memories. He knew that inside her she would be hollow, glass-like and asymmetrical. But what Bill was trying to tell him was the very contrary of what he thought was perfectly simple; that because she has memories, she is alive. Although the Doctor had lived for over 2000 years, that statement may have been one of the hardest to come to terms with. His eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, trying to make sense of it all. He could feel the regeneration energy inside him like a wave, getting ready to pull him under. His hearts he thought were beating slower, and his thought process was shaky. He was dying, and he knew it had to be the end. Suddenly, he felt Bill lean close to him, and after a millisecond of confusion there were lips on his cheek. The Doctor felt proud to have known Bill Potts in that second, and felt a stab of pain at the life and friendship he was about to lose. And then it struck him, and a memory came flooding back to him that he hadn't remembered in a while. A memory of a kiss, exactly like this, but with another's lips. He blinked, thinking about what Bill had said about memories in one of their first adventures; ' _just imagine how it would feel if someone did this to_ _you_.' Then to seeing a familiar name on a memorial board at Coal Hill; to seeing his TARDIS painted with graffiti, with flowers and a woman on the panel. The Doctor made an inextricable connection in his mind with all three instances, finally remembering the face of the diner waitress he had met while looking for...Clara Oswald. When Bill's lips had broken away he felt that it had been a completely different person kissing him, and as he turned his head, he saw her. Just as he knew her to be; brown hair, warm brown eyes, and in the same outfit that he had lost her the first time. She was like an angel, pure and heavenly and positively glowing with light. An angel come to comfort him on the brink of death.

'Merry Christmas, Doctor.' She said, and The Doctor nearly felt as if he were going to cry at such a sudden heaven sent vision. _My Clara_. The Doctor felt a pull at his lips, twisting them into a smirk. 'Clara.'

It had felt like a lifetime since he had said her name, and it resonated within his head.

'Hello, you stupid old man.' She smiled affectionately, making him grin himself because he was so happy and relieved to see her. It even reached his eyes, and he had no doubt in thinking that they were shining as bright as the halo of light around Clara. In that moment, he felt that he didn't want to die. That he couldn't accept it, if Clara was here and he could still hold out as his current incarnation. He imagined them travelling the universe again, and reminiscing on their old adventures, remembering so far back he could picture himself in a bow tie.

'You're back.' He said reverently. Instantly, Bill Potts message became clear: _memories_ make a life. But then he stumbled upon the realisation that she wasn't real. That it was his mind, and they couldn't go travelling together anymore.

'You're in my head.' He exclaimed, watching her features light up. The Doctor recollected another memory, when he shared similar words with the Zygon, Bonnie.

' _I let Clara Oswald get inside my head. Trust me, she doesn't leave_.'

He smiled as he pondered upon those last words, and knew that they were completely true. She never leaves, and she never will, he thought.

'All my memories...are back.' He said, and Clara's smile lit up the dark and depressing surroundings of war and made them glow. His mind wandered back to the chalkboard message he had seen, and then all the other times that she had told him, ' _Run, you clever boy, and remember me.'_

'And don't go forgetting me again, because quite frankly, that was offensive.'

The Doctor smirked softly this time, remembering her humour and the way she looked; it seemed like he really had committed her face to memory, for all her features were exactly as he remembered them.

 _'You will never look any different to me.'_

The abrupt memories overwhelmed him as they flooded his brain, at each second that passed a new moment came to light in his mind and he smiled fondly and inwardly. The Doctor assured himself of her words, making a mental note to his next incarnation never to forget this woman, and her smile and her eyes, and the time they had shared together. It was something he knew he would treasure forever. Something passed between them then, a shared memory personal to them and a reminder of what The Doctor was leaving behind in this life. And then, the angel was gone. Disappeared quietly, just like that. As the Doctor looked down and away, focusing once again on the reality of his surroundings and his predicament, a voice inside his head spoke to him the words of her name, and a lasting imprint of her face scorched itself into his memory and gave him the courage to do what he had to do.


End file.
